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There  is  no  better,  more  easily  understood,  and  more  fun 
explanation  of  the  complexity  of  markets  than  Leonard 
Read's  “I,  Pencil.”  It  ought  to  give  considerable  pause  when 
we  listen  to  the  arrogance  of  politicians  who  tell  us  they 
can  manage  an  economy  better  than  millions,  perhaps 
billions,  of  independent  decision  makers  in  pursuit  of  their 
own  goals.  Its  message  to  would-be  planners  is  to  bug  out! 

WALTER  E.  WILLIAMS 

PROFESSOR  OF  ECONOMICS  • GEORGE  MASON  UNIVERSITY 


7,  Pencil”  is  a superb  case  study  of  free  markets  in  action. 
Half  of  the  world’s  economic  problems  would  vanish  if 
everyone  would  read  7,  Pencil." 


BURTON  W.  FOLSOM 

PROFESSOR  OF  HISTORY  • HILLSDALE  COLLEGE 


What  have  economists  contributed  to  human  knowledge? 
Plenty,  but  the  magical,  beautiful  idea  of  the  division  of 
labor  might  rank  as  the  most  important  insight.  7,  Pencil" 
explains  we  create  so  much  more  wealth  as  a community 
than  we  ever  could  alone  - in  fact,  even  the  simplest  item 
cannot  be  made  without  a complex  division  of  labor. 

JEFFREY  A.  TUCKER 

DIRECTOR  OF  DIGITAL  DEVELOPMENT  • FEE 


"I,  Pencil"  provides  remarkable  insights  into  the  complexity 
generated  by  market  mechanisms.  Textbook  economics 
almost  never  incorporates  these  insights. 

MICHAEL  STRONG 

CO-FOUNDER  • CONSCIOUS  CAPITALISM 
CEO  • RADICAL  SOCIAL  ENTREPRENEURS 


XzQ,  RzHVCaI 


FEE’S  mission  is  to  inspire,  educate,  and 
connect  future  leaders  with  the  economic, 
ethical,  and  legal  principles  of  a free  society. 


Join  us  online  at: 

FEE.org 

Facebook.com/FEEonline 
Twitter.com/FEEonline  (@feeonline) 


Foundation  for  Economic  Education 

1819  Peachtree  Road  NE,  Suite  300 
Atlanta,  Georgia  30309 
Telephone:  (404)  554-9980 

Print  ISBN:  978-1-57246-043-0 
Ebook  ISBN:  978-1-57246-042-3 

Published  under  the  Creative  Commons 
Attribution  4.0  International  License. 

First  printing:  May  2015 
Second  printing:  May  2016 

Cover  design  by  Crowdskout 
Print  layout  design  by  Lauren  Hicks 


FOUNDATION/or 
ECONOMIC  EDUCATION 


We  invite  you  to  advance  liberty  with  us. 

VISIT  FEE.org 


kzQ,  Rz/WCaJ 

My  Family  Tree  as  Told  to 

Leonard  E.  Read 


This  printing  was  made  possible  through  the  generosity  of 
The  Ralph  Smeed  Private  Memorial  Foundation. 


Introduction 

BY  LAWRENCE  W.  REED 

Eloquent.  Extraordinary.  Timeless.  Paradigm-shifting.  Classic. 
Six  decades  after  it  first  appeared,  Leonard  Read's  "I,  Pencil"  still 
evokes  such  adjectives  of  praise.  Rightfully  so,  for  this  little  essay 
opens  eyes  and  minds  among  people  of  all  ages.  Many  first-time 
readers  never  see  the  world  quite  the  same  again. 

Ideas  are  most  powerful  when  they're  wrapped  in  a 
compelling  story.  Leonard's  main  point — economies  can  hardly 
be  "planned"  when  not  one  soul  possesses  all  the  know-how  and 
skills  to  produce  a simple  pencil — unfolds  in  the  enchanting 
words  of  a pencil  itself.  Leonard  could  have  written  "I,  Car"  or  "I, 
Airplane,"  but  choosing  those  more  complex  items  would  have 
muted  the  message.  No  one  person — repeat,  no  one,  no  matter 
how  smart  or  how  many  degrees  follow  his  name — could  create 
from  scratch  a small,  everyday  pencil,  let  alone  a car  or  an  airplane. 

This  is  a message  that  humbles  the  high  and  mighty.  It 
pricks  the  inflated  egos  of  those  who  think  they  know  how  to 
mind  everybody  else's  business.  It  explains  in  plain  language  why 
central  planning  is  an  exercise  in  arrogance  and  futility,  or  what 
Nobel  laureate  and  Austrian  economist  F.  A.  Hayek  aptly  termed 
"the  pretence  of  knowledge." 

Indeed,  a major  influence  on  Read's  thinking  in  this  regard 
was  Hayek's  famous  1945  article,  "The  Use  of  Knowledge  in 
Society."  In  demolishing  the  spurious  claims  of  the  socialists  of  the 
day,  Hayek  wrote,  "This  is  not  a dispute  about  whether  planning 
is  to  be  done  or  not.  It  is  a dispute  as  to  whether  planning  is  to  be 
done  centrally,  by  one  authority  for  the  whole  economic  system, 
or  is  to  be  divided  among  many  individuals." 

Maximilien  Robespierre  is  said  to  have  blessed  the  horrific 
French  Revolution  with  this  chilling  declaration:  "On  ne  saurait 
pas  faire  une  omelette  sans  casser  des  oeufs."  Translation: 
"One  can't  expect  to  make  an  omelet  without  breaking  eggs." 


A consummate  statist  who  worked  tirelessly  to  plan  the  lives 
of  others,  he  would  become  the  architect  of  the  Revolution's 
bloodiest  phase — the  Reign  of  Terror  of  1793-94. 

Robespierre  and  his  guillotine  broke  eggs  by  the  thousands 
in  a vain  effort  to  impose  a utopian  society  with  government 
planners  at  the  top  and  everybody  else  at  the  bottom.  That  French 
experience  is  but  one  example  in  a disturbingly  familiar  pattern. 
Call  them  what  you  will — socialists,  interventionists,  collectivists, 
statists — history  is  littered  with  their  presumptuous  plans  for 
rearranging  society  to  fit  their  vision  of  the  common  good,  plans 
that  always  fail  as  they  kill  or  impoverish  other  people  in  the 
process.  If  socialism  ever  earns  a final  epitaph,  it  will  be  this:  Here 
lies  a contrivance  engineered  by  know-it-alls  who  broke  eggs  with 
abandon  but  never,  ever  created  an  omelet. 

None  of  the  Robespierres  of  the  world  knew  how  to  make  a 
pencil,  yet  they  wanted  to  remake  entire  societies.  How  utterly 
preposterous,  and  mournfully  tragic!  But  we  will  miss  a large 
implication  of  Leonard  Read's  message  if  we  assume  it  aims  only 
at  the  tyrants  whose  names  we  all  know.  The  lesson  of  “l,  Pencil" 
is  not  that  error  begins  when 
the  planners  plan  big.  It  begins 
the  moment  one  tosses  humility 
aside,  assumes  he  knows  the 
unknowable,  and  employs 
the  force  of  the  State  against 
peaceful  individuals.  That's  not 
just  a national  disease.  It  can  be 
very  local  indeed. 

In  our  midst  are  people 
who  think  that  if  only  they  had 
government  power  on  their  side, 
they  could  pick  tomorrow's  winners  and  losers  in  the  marketplace, 
set  prices  or  rents  where  they  ought  to  be,  decide  which  forms 
of  energy  should  power  our  homes  and  cars,  and  choose  which 
industries  should  survive  and  which  should  die.  They  should  stop 
for  a few  moments  and  learn  a little  humility  from  a lowly  writing 
implement. 


In  our  midst  are 
people  who  think 
that  If  only  they  had 
government  power 
on  their  side,  they 
could  pick 
tomorrow’s  winners 

and  losers...  99 


2 


While  “I,  Pencil”  shoots  down  the  baseless  expectations  for 
central  planning,  it  provides  a supremely  uplifting  perspective  of 
the  individual.  Guided  by  Adam  Smith’s  “invisible  hand”  of  prices, 
property,  profits,  and  incentives,  free  people  accomplish  economic 
miracles  of  which  socialist  theoreticians  can  only  dream.  As  the 
interests  of  countless  individuals  from  around  the  world  converge 
to  produce  pencils  without  a single  “master  mind,”  so  do  they  also 
come  together  in  free  markets  to  feed,  clothe,  house,  educate,  and 
entertain  hundreds  of  millions  of  people  at  ever  higher  levels. 

With  great  pride,  FEE  publishes  this  new  edition  of  “I, 
Pencil”  to  mark  the  essay’s  timeless  message  for  a new  generation. 
Someday  there  will  be  a centennial  edition,  maybe  even  a 
millennial  one.  This  essay  is  truly  one  for  the  ages. 

- Lawrence  W.  Reed 

President,  FEE 
Atlanta,  Georgia 
May  2015 


3 


I,  Pencil 

My  Family  Tree  as  told  to  Leonard  E.  Read 

I am  a lead  pencil — the  ordinary  wooden  pencil  familiar  to 
all  boys  and  girls  and  adults  who  can  read  and  write. 

Writing  is  both  my  vocation  and  my  avocation;  that's  all  I do. 

You  may  wonder  why  I should  write  a genealogy.  Well,  to 
begin  with,  my  story  is  interesting.  And,  next,  I am  a mystery 
— more  so  than  a tree  or  a sunset  or  even  a flash  of  lightning. 
But,  sadly,  I am  taken  for  granted  by  those  who  use  me,  as  if  I 
were  a mere  incident  and  without  background.  This  supercilious 
attitude  relegates  me  to  the  level  of  the  commonplace.  This  is  a 
species  of  the  grievous  error  in  which  mankind  cannot  too  long 
persist  without  peril.  For,  the  wise  G.  K.  Chesterton  observed, 
“We  are  perishing  for  want  of  wonder,  not  for  want  of  wonders." 

I,  Pencil,  simple  though  I appear  to  be,  merit  your  wonder  and 
awe,  a claim  I shall  attempt  to  prove.  In  fact,  if  you  can  understand 
me — no,  that's  too  much  to  ask  of  anyone — if  you  can  become 
aware  of  the  miraculousness 
which  I symbolize,  you  can  help 
save  the  freedom  mankind  is 
so  unhappily  losing.  I have  a 
profound  lesson  to  teach.  And  I 
can  teach  this  lesson  better  than 
can  an  automobile  or  an  airplane 
or  a mechanical  dishwasher 
because — well,  because  I am 
seemingly  so  simple. 

Simple?  Yet,  not  a single 
person  on  the  face  of  this 
earth  knows  how  to  make  me.  This  sounds  fantastic,  doesn't  it? 
Especially  when  it  is  realized  that  there  are  about  one  and  one- 
half  billion  of  my  kind  produced  in  the  U.S.A.  each  year. 

Pick  me  up  and  look  me  over.  What  do  you  see?  Not  much 

4 


66 

If  you  can 
become  aware  of 
the  miraculousness 
which  / symbolize, 
you  can  help 
save  the  freedome 
mankind  is  so 
unhappily  losing. 


meets  the  eye — there's  some  wood,  lacquer,  the  printed  labeling, 
graphite  lead,  a bit  of  metal,  and  an  eraser. 

INNUMERABLE  ANTECEDENTS 

Just  as  you  cannot  trace  your  family  tree  back  very  far,  so  is 
it  impossible  for  me  to  name  and  explain  all  my  antecedents.  But 
I would  like  to  suggest  enough  of  them  to  impress  upon  you  the 
richness  and  complexity  of  my  background. 

My  family  tree  begins  with  what  in  fact  is  a tree,  a cedar  of 
straight  grain  that  grows  in  Northern  California  and  Oregon.  Now 
contemplate  all  the  saws  and  trucks  and  rope  and  the  countless 
other  gear  used  in  harvesting  and  carting  the  cedar  logs  to  the 
railroad  siding.  Think  of  all  the  persons  and  the  numberless  skills 
that  went  into  their  fabrication:  the  mining  of  ore,  the  making  of 
steel  and  its  refinement  into  saws,  axes,  motors;  the  growing  of 
hemp  and  bringing  it  through  all  the  stages  to  heavy  and  strong 
rope;  the  logging  camps  with  their  beds  and  mess  halls,  the 
cookery  and  the  raising  of  all  the  foods.  Why,  untold  thousands  of 
persons  had  a hand  in  every  cup  of  coffee  the  loggers  drink! 

The  logs  are  shipped  to  a mill  in  San  Leandro,  California. 
Can  you  imagine  the  individuals  who  make  flat  cars  and 
rails  and  railroad  engines  and  who  construct  and  install  the 
communication  systems  incidental  thereto?  These  legions  are 
among  my  antecedents. 

Consider  the  millwork  in  San  Leandro.  The  cedar  logs  are 
cut  into  small,  pencil-length  slats  less  than  one-fourth  of  an 
inch  in  thickness.  These  are  kiln  dried  and  then  tinted  for  the 
same  reason  women  put  rouge  on  their  faces.  People  prefer  that 
I look  pretty,  not  a pallid  white.  The  slats  are  waxed  and  kiln 
dried  again.  How  many  skills  went  into  the  making  of  the  tint 
and  the  kilns,  into  supplying  the  heat,  the  light  and  power,  the 
belts,  motors,  and  all  the  other  things  a mill  requires?  Sweepers 
in  the  mill  among  my  ancestors?  Yes,  and  included  are  the  men 
who  poured  the  concrete  for  the  dam  of  a Pacific  Gas  & Electric 
Company  hydroplant  which  supplies  the  mill's  power! 

Don't  overlook  the  ancestors  present  and  distant  who  have  a 


5 


hand  in  transporting  sixty  carloads  of  slats  across  the  nation. 

Once  in  the  pencil  factory — $4,000,000  in  machinery  and 
building,  all  capital  accumulated  by  thrifty  and  saving  parents 
of  mine — each  slat  is  given  eight  grooves  by  a complex  machine, 
after  which  another  machine  lays  leads  in  every  other  slat,  applies 
glue,  and  places  another  slat  atop — a lead  sandwich,  so  to  speak. 
Seven  brothers  and  I are  mechanically  carved  from  this  “wood- 
clinched''  sandwich. 

My  “lead"  itself — it  contains  no  lead  at  all — is  complex.  The 
graphite  is  mined  in  Ceylon  [Sri  Lanka].  Consider  these  miners 
and  those  who  make  their  many  tools  and  the  makers  of  the  paper 
sacks  in  which  the  graphite  is  shipped  and  those  who  make  the 
string  that  ties  the  sacks  and  those  who  put  them  aboard  ships 
and  those  who  make  the  ships.  Even  the  lighthouse  keepers  along 
the  way  assisted  in  my  birth — and  the  harbor  pilots. 

The  graphite  is  mixed  with  clay  from  Mississippi  in  which 
ammonium  hydroxide  is  used  in  the  rehning  process.  Then 
wetting  agents  are  added  such  as 
sulfonated  tallow — animal  fats 
chemically  reacted  with  sulfuric 
acid.  After  passing  through 
numerous  machines,  the  mixture 
finally  appears  as  endless 
extrusions — as  from  a sausage 
grinder — cut  to  size,  dried,  and 
baked  for  several  hours  at  1,850 
degrees  Fahrenheit.  To  increase 
their  strength  and  smoothness 
the  leads  are  then  treated  with 
a hot  mixture  which  includes 
candelilla  wax  from  Mexico,  paraffin  wax,  and  hydrogenated 
natural  fats. 

My  cedar  receives  six  coats  of  lacquer.  Do  you  know  all  the 
ingredients  of  lacquer?  Who  would  think  that  the  growers  of 
castor  beans  and  the  refiners  of  castor  oil  are  a part  of  it?  They 
are. 

Observe  the  labeling.  That's  a him  formed  by  applying  heat 

6 


Why  even  the 
processes  by  which 
the  lacquer  is  made 
a beautiful  yellow 
involve  the  skills  of 


more  persons 
than  one  can 
enumerate. 


99 


to  carbon  black  mixed  with  resins.  How  do  you  make  resins  and 
what,  pray,  is  carbon  black?  Why,  even  the  processes  by  which 
the  lacquer  is  made  a beautiful  yellow  involve  the  skills  of 
more  persons  than  one  can  enumerate! 

My  bit  of  metal — the  ferrule — is  brass.  Think  of  all  the 
persons  who  mine  zinc  and  copper  and  those  who  have  the  skills 
to  make  shiny  sheet  brass  from  these  products  of  nature.  Those 
black  rings  on  my  ferrule  are  black  nickel.  What  is  black  nickel 
and  how  is  it  applied?  The  complete  story  of  why  the  center  of  my 
ferrule  has  no  black  nickel  on  it  would  take  pages  to  explain. 

Then  there's  my  crowning  glory,  inelegantly  referred  to  in  the 
trade  as  “the  plug,"  the  part  man  uses  to  erase  the  errors  he  makes 
with  me.  An  ingredient  called  “factice"  is  what  does  the  erasing. 
It  is  a rubber-like  product  made  by  reacting  rapeseed  oil  from 
the  Dutch  East  Indies  [Indonesia]  with  sulfur  chloride.  Rubber, 
contrary  to  the  common  notion,  is  only  for  binding  purposes. 
Then,  too,  there  are  numerous  vulcanizing  and  accelerating 
agents.  The  pumice  comes  from  Italy;  and  the  pigment  which 
gives  “the  plug"  its  color  is  cadmium  sulfide. 

NO  ONE  KNOWS 

Does  anyone  wish  to 
challenge  my  earlier  assertion 
that  no  single  person  on  the  face 
of  this  earth  knows  how  to  make 
me? 

Actually,  millions  of  human 
beings  have  had  a hand  in  my 
creation,  no  one  of  whom  even 
knows  more  than  a very  few  of 
the  others.  Now,  you  may  say 
that  I go  too  far  in  relating  the 
picker  of  a coffee  berry  in  far-off 
Brazil  and  food  growers  elsewhere  to  my  creation;  that  this  is  an 
extreme  position.  I shall  stand  by  my  claim.  There  isn't  a single 
person  in  all  these  millions,  including  the  president  of  the  pencil 


Actually, 

millions  of  human 
beings  have  had  a 
hand  in  my  creation, 
no  one  of  whom 
even  knows  more 
than  a very  few  of 
the  others. 


7 


company,  who  contributes  more  than  a tiny  infinitesimal  bit  of 
know-how.  From  the  standpoint  of  know-how  the  only  difference 
between  the  miner  of  graphite  in  Ceylon  and  the  logger  in  Oregon 
is  in  the  type  of  know-how.  Neither  the  miner  nor  the  logger  can 
be  dispensed  with,  any  more  than  can  the  chemist  at  the  factory 
or  the  worker  in  the  oil  field — paraffin  being  a by-product  of 
petroleum. 

Here  is  an  astounding  fact:  Neither  the  worker  in  the  oil  field 
nor  the  chemist  nor  the  digger  of  graphite  or  clay  nor  any  who 
mans  or  makes  the  ships  or  trains  or  trucks  nor  the  one  who  runs 
the  machine  that  does  the  knurling  on  my  bit  of  metal  nor  the 
president  of  the  company  performs  his  singular  task  because  he 
wants  me.  Each  one  wants  me  less,  perhaps,  than  does  a child  in 
the  first  grade.  Indeed,  there  are  some  among  this  vast  multitude 
who  never  saw  a pencil  nor  would  they  know  how  to  use  one. 
Their  motivation  is  other  than  me.  Perhaps  it  is  something  like 
this:  Each  of  these  millions  sees  that  he  can  thus  exchange  his 
tiny  know-how  for  the  goods  and  services  he  needs  or  wants.  I 
may  or  may  not  be  among  these  items. 

NO  MASTER  MIND 

There  is  a fact  still  more  astounding:  The  absence  of  a master 
mind,  of  anyone  dictating  or  forcibly  directing  these  countless 
actions  which  bring  me  into  being.  No  trace  of  such  a person  can 
be  found.  Instead,  we  find  the  Invisible  Hand  at  work.  This  is  the 
mystery  to  which  I earlier  referred. 

It  has  been  said  that  "only  God  can  make  a tree/'  Why  do  we 
agree  with  this?  Isn't  it  because  we  realize  that  we  ourselves  could 
not  make  one?  Indeed,  can  we  even  describe  a tree?  We  cannot, 
except  in  superficial  terms.  We  can  say,  for  instance,  that  a certain 
molecular  configuration  manifests  itself  as  a tree.  But  what  mind 
is  there  among  men  that  could  even  record,  let  alone  direct,  the 
constant  changes  in  molecules  that  transpire  in  the  life  span  of  a 
tree?  Such  a feat  is  utterly  unthinkable! 

I,  Pencil,  am  a complex  combination  of  miracles:  a tree, 
zinc,  copper,  graphite,  and  so  on.  But  to  these  miracles  which 


manifest  themselves  in  Nature  an  even  more  extraordinary 
miracle  has  been  added:  the  configuration  of  creative  human 
energies — millions  of  tiny  know-hows  configurating  naturally 
and  spontaneously  in  response  to  human  necessity  and  desire 
and  in  the  absence  of  any  human  masterminding!  Since  only 
God  can  make  a tree,  I insist  that  only  God  could  make  me.  Man 
can  no  more  direct  these  millions  of  know-hows  to  bring  me  into 
being  than  he  can  put  molecules  together  to  create  a tree. 

The  above  is  what  I meant  when  writing,  “If  you  can  become 
aware  of  the  miraculousness  which  I symbolize,  you  can  help  save 
the  freedom  mankind  is  so  unhappily  losing/'  For,  if  one  is  aware 
that  these  know-hows  will  naturally,  yes,  automatically,  arrange 
themselves  into  creative  and  productive  patterns  in  response 
to  human  necessity  and  demand — that  is,  in  the  absence  of 
governmental  or  any  other  coercive  master-minding — then  one 
will  possess  an  absolutely  essential  ingredient  for  freedom:  a 
faith  in  free  people.  Freedom  is  impossible  without  this  faith. 

Once  government  has  had  a monopoly  of  a creative  activity 
such,  for  instance,  as  the  delivery  of  the  mails,  most  individuals 
will  believe  that  the  mails  could  not  be  efficiently  delivered  by  men 
acting  freely.  And  here  is  the  reason:  Each  one  acknowledges  that 
he  himself  doesn't  know  how  to  do  all  the  things  incident  to  mail 
delivery.  He  also  recognizes  that  no  other  individual  could  do  it. 
These  assumptions  are  correct.  No  individual  possesses  enough 
know-how  to  perform  a nation's  mail  delivery  any  more  than  any 
individual  possesses  enough  know-how  to  make  a pencil.  Now, 
in  the  absence  of  faith  in  free  people — in  the  unawareness  that 
millions  of  tiny  know-hows  would  naturally  and  miraculously 
form  and  cooperate  to  satisfy  this  necessity — the  individual 
cannot  help  but  reach  the  erroneous  conclusion  that  mail  can  be 
delivered  only  by  governmental  “masterminding." 

TESTIMONY  GALORE 

If  I,  Pencil,  were  the  only  item  that  could  offer  testimony 
on  what  men  and  women  can  accomplish  when  free  to  try,  then 
those  with  little  faith  would  have  a fair  case.  However,  there  is 


9 


testimony  galore;  it's  all  about  us  and  on  every  hand.  Mail  delivery 
is  exceedingly  simple  when  compared,  for  instance,  to  the  making 
of  an  automobile  or  a calculating  machine  or  a grain  combine  or  a 
milling  machine  or  to  tens  of  thousands  of  other  things.  Delivery? 
Why,  in  this  area  where  men  have  been  left  free  to  try,  they  deliver 

the  human  voice  around  the  world  in 
less  than  one  second;  they  deliver  an 
event  visually  and  in  motion  to  any 
person's  home  when  it  is  happening; 
they  deliver  150  passengers  from 
Seattle  to  Baltimore  in  less  than  four 
hours;  they  deliver  gas  from  Texas 
to  one's  range  or  furnace  in  New 
York  at  unbelievably  low  rates  and 
without  subsidy;  they  deliver  each 
four  pounds  of  oil  from  the  Persian 
Gulf  to  our  Eastern  Seaboard — halfway  around  the  world — for 
less  money  than  the  government  charges  for  delivering  a one- 
ounce  letter  across  the  street! 

The  lesson  I have  to  teach  is  this:  Leave  all  creative  energies 
uninhibited.  Merely  organize  society  to  act  in  harmony  with  this 
lesson.  Let  society's  legal  apparatus  remove  all  obstacles  the  best 
it  can.  Permit  these  creative  know-hows  freely  to  flow.  Have  faith 
that  free  men  and  women  will  respond  to  the  Invisible  Hand. 
This  faith  will  be  confirmed.  I,  Pencil,  seemingly  simple  though 
I am,  offer  the  miracle  of  my  creation  as  testimony  that  this  is  a 
practical  faith,  as  practical  as  the  sun,  the  rain,  a cedar  tree,  the 
good  earth. 


The  lesson  / have 
to  teach  is  this: 
Leave  all  creative 
energies 
uninhibited. 


10 


Leonard  E.  Read 


Leonard  E.  Read  (1898-1983)  established  the  Foundation  for 
Economic  Education  in  1946.  For  the  next  37  years  he  served  as 
FEE's  president  and  labored  tirelessly  to  promote  and  advance 
liberty.  He  was  a natural  leader  who,  at  a crucial  moment  in 
American  history  roused  the  forces  defending  individual  freedom 
and  private  property. 

His  life  is  a testament  to  the  power  of  ideas.  As  President 
Ronald  Reagan  wrote:  "Our  nation  and  her  people  have  been 
vastly  enriched  by  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  freedom,  and 
generations  to  come  will  look  to  Leonard  Read  for  inspiration." 

Read  was  the  author  of  29  books  and  hundreds  of  essays. 
"I,  Pencil,"  his  most  famous  essay,  was  first  published  in  1958. 
Although  a few  of  the  manufacturing  details  and  place  names 
have  changed,  the  principles  endure. 


B 


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